Wilde
by Belle P
Summary: Makani Wilde was seven years old when her mother was murdered after a job gone wrong. Jonathan, Makani's father, throws himself into his work, taking jobs longer and farther away from home. Makani trains constantly in preparation for the day when she will get her revenge. After six years, Makani is finally forced to attend Hogwarts, where revenge is low on a long list of obstacles.


**A/N: Hey guys, I know I have a lot to answer for regarding my former stories, but you know…life gets in the way of all things. However, this is one of the dozens and dozens of things that I've been working on lately and I thought I'd post it as a sort of test run. I dearly hope that it's much better written than some of my older stuff. So…read, ponder, drop a review or two and tell me what you think about this first chapter.**

**Chapter One: Forced Situation**

"_**Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like."**_

…_You are to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this September. Tragic as it is, six years is more than enough time to mourn the loss of your mother and move on with our lives – she would want this for us, we both know that. You are far too anti-social for a teenage girl, and it is my final decision that you will complete a minimum of a full year at a real school, with other children your age. If, at the end of term, you absolutely hate it, we will discuss further options._

_Once again, Princess, I'm terribly sorry that I couldn't be at Kings Cross to see you off like I'd promised; I was held up in a rather…sticky situation, but I will come to collect you in time for the winter holidays, or perhaps next summer, when we can spend more time together. Enjoy your time at Hogwarts, my dear; your mother and I certainly did in our day. Stay out of the Forbidden Forest and try not to get into too much mischief. Your powers are growing far faster than we anticipated and it's imperative that you maintain complete control over them. Do try to make some friends, Makani._

_Your loving father,_

_Jonathan M. Wilde_

"Wilde, Makani!"

My head snapped up and my eyes rested on Professor McGonagall, who stood at the front of the enormous Great Hall with a scroll held firmly in her hands. I could tell immediately by her tight-lipped expression that she'd probably called my name more than once but mentally, I had been too far away to hear her. I had been too busy going over that blasted letter from father that had sentenced me to this school in the first place.

Determinedly ignoring the sniggers, whispers, and curious stares I received from the rest of the students around me, I stood up straight and walked forward with as much dignity as I could muster after having been caught daydreaming during my own Sorting. Even though the line of first years behind me shook with nerves, I was somewhat numb to the experience. I would sit on the stool, put the Hat on my head, and allow it to place me wherever it wanted – there was no point in being a nervous-wreck over something I had no control over.

At least, that's what I tried to convince myself of.

Walking forward, I managed to pick up the Sorting Hat and sit on the stool without making a major idiot of myself. Keeping my eyes on the Great Hall doors directly across the room, I placed the Hat on my without comment to its lack of cleanliness, crossed my legs, and smoothed my black pleated skirt. Several long seconds passed before anything happened.

"**Miss Wilde**_,_" a surprisingly deep voice echoed within my head, "**where are we going to Sort you tonight?**_"_

"**I thought that was your job?" **I huffed, rather annoyed and wondering if the conversation worked both ways.

My question was answered as the Hat replied, "**Watch it little girl or I'll have you bunking with the house-elves**."

My eyebrow raised a fraction. "**You can do that?**" I thought, faintly amused.

The Hat seemed to sniff, "**Watch your tone and you won't have to find out. Now, on to business…"** it hummed slowly. "**Hmm, interesting…very, very interesting. Oh yes, we've got a limitless mind, here – loads of intelligence…but you lack the thirst for knowledge simply for knowledge's sake – Ravenclaw is out. An immense capacity for loyalty that you give very sparingly, a distinct lack of trust in people you do not know, but you have a quiet acceptance of the power you possess – very humble, but not Hufflepuff material. Ah yes, bravery, strength, and determination in spades, along with quite the temper and a prideful streak a mile wide – and I don't think I've come across anyone quite so stubborn – Gryffindor… But this – my, my, my, this is what I've been looking for. Yes, incredible power even though you haven't figured out exactly what it is, cunning and ambition, heir to an old and formidable wizarding bloodline…Oh! Oh dear…**"

Damn.

"**Dear Merlin, this **_**is**_** interesting – a dark past, Miss Wilde? Your father doesn't even know how truly deep your rage goes, how cold your heart can be, particularly in the matter involving your departed mother."**

At that moment, it was as though a bucket of ice water had flooded my body. My hands gripped the stool so tightly, the edges began to splinter and crumble in my hands.

Suddenly, the Hat became very serious as he said, **"Listen closely Wilde, you have a brilliant mind and more power than any student that has come through these walls, including Dumbledore – you have the power to do incredible things in this world. There was another student, about fifty years ago, with similar qualities, but he chose to waste his potential and drag this world through its darkest hour. You have the same potential – the same deep-seated anger and pain – and you would do well to heed my warning: do not become** **complacent and forget what you've come from… **I INVOKE LEX LIBERUM!"

Utter silence greeted the Hat's pronouncement. As I looked around at the confused students and the stunned professors, I narrowed my eyes and nearly ripped the Hat off of my head.

"**What the hell did you just do?"** I growled.

Ignoring me, the Hat spoke aloud to the school, "Upon invoking Lex Liberum, an ancient law agreed upon by the Four Founders of Hogwarts, this student shall not belong to any of the four Houses but instead, will essentially be a free student. Subsequent to the Feast, a mandatory meeting with the Headmaster shall take place. So mote it be."

Before I or anyone could say anything, there was a nearly blinding flash of light and when it had cleared, I knew my fate had been sealed. No one else moved for a long minute and I was completely incapable of responding to what had just happened – in all of their stories, neither of my parents had ever warned me of anything like this happening. After three long, silent minutes had gone by, Professor McGonagall seemed to be the first to come to her senses and she rushed over to me, removing the Hat from my head.

"Sit anywhere, Miss Wilde," she said, her lips nearly white, "and remain behind after the feast."

"Yes ma'am," I muttered softly, unaware if the professor heard me or not.

Standing up slowly, as if to test my own stability, I allowed my feet to direct me and ended up at the table on the far left, dominated by splashes of red and gold. I sat at the very end of the table and kept my head down to avoid the unyielding stares and sudden whispers that were directed at me. My left eye began to twitch as another two minutes went by before the Sorting resumed, and even as the line of new first years dwindled, the stares did not. As Dumbledore stood up to speak, however, the Sorting Hat's warnings still rang loud and clear in my head.

"…_do not become complacent and forget what you've come from…"_ I mulled the words over and over in my head yet I could make no sense of them by the time the old man's speech had begun.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore said, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

At the mention of food, I realized just how famished I was and eagerly awaited the legendary Hogwarts Welcoming Feast, despite the curveball the Sorting Hat had just thrown at me. Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused and it was clear to see that Headmaster Dumbledore was not happy with those…things guarding the school. No one could blame him, especially after that debacle on the Hogwarts Express during the journey to the school. However, as I stared up at the man, with his sweeping hair and beard and half-moon spectacles, I couldn't help but remember that my father wasn't too fond of Dumbledore during his time at Hogwarts.

**I wonder if Dumbledore remembers him…**I pondered, twisting my signet ring around my finger.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "And while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises – or even invisibility cloaks," he added blandly.

He glanced in the direction of the three students sitting a few seats away from me, on the other side of the gap I had placed between the other students and me. Watching the embarrassed but pleased looks on those three students' faces made me curious about the story behind the glance Dumbledore had given them; it didn't seem that they were in trouble, but in fact, they looked as though the memory had been a pleasant one to look back on. A sudden ache began inside of me…

I was envious.

I had never had friends with whom I could get into trouble with and have adventures with – make memories that we could look back on and laugh at. Not since before my mother had died, back when I still attended planned playdates and birthday parties.

"Well, that time has passed," I muttered, slipping my fingers through my thick hair and resting my head on my hand, looking at the wordlessly moving mouth of the Headmaster. "We're all hardly still having playdates."

"On a happier note," Dumbledore was saying brightly, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Almost as if to defy this, a black-haired boy, a red-haired boy, and bushy-haired girl – the very same students the Headmaster had glanced at moments ago – clapped as hard as possible, earning themselves many odd looks and interestingly enough, a small grateful smile from Lupin himself. Although Professor Lupin looked particularly tired and shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes, there was something very…alert about his eyes and in his stance.

He was stronger than he looked… I was sure of it.

"Look at Snape!" the red-haired boy hissed.

Automatically, I scanned the table for someone who I had spent much of my life hearing about – my father's former best friend. As I laid eyes on Professor Snape, the Potions master, I was startled at his appearance, not even taking into account the twisted expression of pure loathing and rage on his face. It was hard to consolidate my father's stories of wild fun with the mean, pale-faced man sitting at the Head Table.

But perhaps I was being too quick to judge. I decided to withdraw my opinion of Professor Snape until I had sat through a full lesson with him that week. For now, it was interesting enough to simply wonder at what Professor Lupin had done to earn such a look from Snape.

"I wonder why he's looking at Professor Lupin like that," the bushy-haired girl said softly.

"Funny," the boy with messy black hair said, rolling his eyes, "he looks at me like that every day."

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Once again, the three students nearest me applauded the loudest, though they were joined more enthusiastically by the rest of the Gryffindor table, all clapping in support of an absolutely giant of a man with tangled black hair and an unruly beard to match. The man was red in the face and staring down at his hands, though he was clearly grinning widely as his face crinkled around his eyes. The same three students were the last to stop clapping, and as Headmaster Dumbledore started speaking again, I saw that Professor Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well," Dumbledore said, "I think that's everything of importance. Let the feast begin!"

Within seconds, I understood why the feasts at Hogwarts were something of a legend as the golden plates and goblets on the table were now piled with food. There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, and a dozen other things that gave off the most heavenly scents. Overcome with hunger, I forced myself to maintain some measure of decorum as I piled my plate with a little bit of everything and dug in.

A few of the students seemed interested in starting a conversation with me, and in fact, the three students that had captured my attention throughout Dumbledore's speech had even urged me to join them, but I continually refused, preferring to stay at the end of the table…alone; after several quickly-halted attempts, the rest of the table seemed to get the hint.

Eventually, the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings. Although I maintained a nonchalant composure, it was with carefully hidden excitement that I reached for the nearest platter of treacle tart. Just as I was about to pick up the biggest one off the top, the messy black-haired boy reached for the same tart at the same time.

He offered me an amused grin, said, "Ladies first," and settled for a much smaller tart from the edge of the platter. Momentarily stunned and quite unprepared to socialize, I slid back to my end of the table empty-handed and remained utterly prone until the end of the feast.

It was a wave of relief when Headmaster Dumbledore finally gave word that it was time for everyone to head out for bed. I watched the other students streaming out of the Great Hall, yelling, shouting, and laughing over each other; people were bumping and shoving each other, stepping over toes and blocking each other's way; friends were struggling to stay together in the mix of moving bodies and Houses were clearly divided. It was complete chaos…

And I wished dearly that I was a part of it.

Rather than head for the door with everyone else, I slowly meandered up to the Head Table to meet with Professor Dumbledore. As I waited respectfully for him to finish speaking with a few other professors, I subtly watched the group of three, who were quickly becoming familiar, approach the Head Table and congratulate Professor Hagrid on landing the teaching position. Although I tried not to eavesdrop too much, I couldn't help but watch on silently at their bright smiles and warm grins, something I hadn't been on the receiving end of in a while – father had been away for a long time, caught up in his own method of grieving.

Pretty soon, Professor McGonagall shooed the group away but as they were heading back down to the tables, the dark-haired boy hesitated before hurrying toward me with something cupped in his hands.

I quickly stiffened and tried to appear as though I hadn't been watching them but his irritatingly amused grin told me that he knew otherwise. He didn't say anything at first and neither did I, but after a minute of awkward silence, he quickly pushed something wrapped in a napkin into my hands and ran off to catch up with his two friends. I waited until they had left the Great Hall before I unwrapped the napkin and inside…was the biggest treacle tart from the top of the platter.

The rest of the night passed in a blur.

I vaguely remembered following Headmaster Dumbledore up to his rather elaborate office, where he and the Sorting Hat explained my position as a ward under Lex Liberum. I was shown a list of vacant accommodations around the castle seeing as I couldn't reside in any of the House dorms and chose a place called East Tower. To my amusement, even Headmaster Dumbledore didn't know where East Tower was within the castle and after the Sorting Hat assured me that no one had the right to know where it was or what password I chose (something the Headmaster clearly wasn't thrilled about), I was shown to my new home by a castle house-elf.

I didn't bother to unpack my trunk or even undress as I floated from the entrance to the bedroom, and collapsed on the thankfully dust-free bed. It wasn't until I made to extinguish the candle on my bedside table that I realized I was still clutching the now-smashed napkin-wrapped treacle tart tightly in my fist.


End file.
